


Don't Go

by OptimisticJamie



Series: Inquisitor x Love Interests [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:59:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4203657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OptimisticJamie/pseuds/OptimisticJamie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anonymous:<br/>For the sentence thingy "Don’t go.” Dorian x Inquisitior?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Go

**Author's Note:**

> Sentence Meme: http://optimistic-jamie.tumblr.com/post/121877585246/sentence-meme-sentences
> 
>  
> 
> This one is short because Zevmael is still reletively new and I haven’t actually gotten to even flirt with Dorian yet so I’m still a little unsure of how their personalities would fit together.

This was not the way Zevmael wanted to return to Skyhold, to Dorian, but here he was, unable to move, sword arm broken, and barely keeping his eyes open.

The infirmary smelt of sickness. An illness had ravaged Skyhold during the time he was gone, Dorian had kept him informed of the illness’s development. Apparently it was just a simple cold, extremely contagious, but not deadly.

The healers had Zevmael lying on his back, splinting his broken arm, preparing for the mages to heal the bones.

“Shit!” Zevmael cried out when he was jostled fiercely. He found his vision blocked by an enchanter’s coat and could smell Dorian’s scent. A mix of fine wine and old books. Zevmael closed his eyes against Dorian’s tight embrace, returning it with his good arm.

“You’re an idiot. I can’t believe you’re the Inquisitor.” Dorian’s voice floated to Zevmael’s ears as if it was carried on the wind. He grunted in reply.

Releasing Zevmael, Dorian took a seat next to his cot, holding his good hand in both of his and kissing the knuckles. “Don’t do that again, or if you do bring me so I can cover your sorry arse.”

Zevmael huffed a laugh as the mage healers entered the room. They took up positions on either side of Zevmael’s head, blocking his view of Dorian. Zevmael looked up at them, clearly annoyed.

“Inquisitor, you have severely injured your arm. In order to heal it we are going to have to put you to sleep else the pain will be too much for you.” One of them explained, light already dancing on her fingers, waiting for permission.

Zevmael strained to see around her to Dorian. The Tevinter hadn’t let go of his hand…yet.

“Okay.” Zevmael said to the healer.

The healer nodded and pressed her palm to Zevmael’s forehead and he felt a sensation of warm, thick water rushing over his limbs and mind, slowing everything. He could feel his breathing deepen as he succumbed to sleep. Dorian’s hold on his hand lessened and he felt his heart jolt against the spell.

Lashing out clumsily, limbs heavy with sleep, Zevmael grabbed the coat tails of Dorian’s clothes. He stared at Dorian, not quite able to see him as the spell deepened.

“Don’t go.” He slurred out. Though he was certain it sounded like ‘donut’.

Dorian turned around just as Zevmael’s grip slipped, his arm falling heavily against the cot, bouncing till it hung over the edge. The mage healer lifted her hand off Zevmael’s forehead and nodded to the others. She moved the to side of Zevmael’s broken arm, the elf now completely asleep.

Dorian took his previous seat and lifted Zevmael’s limp arm into his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Amatus.”


End file.
